


Blue Fires of Samhain

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Paint The Sky With Stars [51]
Category: Night World - Fandom, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Crossover, Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "any fandom with witches, any witch, doing magic on Halloween."</p><p>John Sheppard's first Halloween after his mother died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Fires of Samhain

"What are you doing here?" Blaise looked John up and down, took in his plain shift with its simple knot, his utter lack of a costume. She was dressed as Queen Isis but looked more like Nefertiti, with an elaborated headdress and dramatic eye makeup.  
  
"Cousin," Thea hissed, digging an elbow into her ribs. She was carrying a cauldron and wearing dried apple blossoms in her hair. It took John a moment, but he figured out she was dressed as Cerridwen.  
  
"You're lamia," Blaise said flatly. "These are the fires of Samhain, for witches."  
  
"I'm a witch, too," John said stiffly.  
  
Blaise frowned. "I've never seen you at Circle gatherings."  
  
"Not Circle Midnight." John swallowed. "That's more Dave's thing."  
  
Blaise arched an eyebrow at Thea. "Have you seen him at Circle Twilight?"  
  
"I'm living in Vegas now, so no," Thea said.

John knew Blaise moved around a lot, from school to school, usually in the wake of some kind of tragedy that involved a love spell going wrong and some besotted teenage boy with a fancy car doing something insane to try to prove his love for Blaise. 

"Oh," Blaise said. "Right." She narrowed her eyes at John. "Where's Dave, then?"  
  
"Somewhere near one of the other fires, I think." Dave was in his element at Circle gatherings, at fires, at conjurings and spellweavings. He was Patrick Sheppard's oldest son, heir to one of the oldest witching lines descended from Hecate Hearthwoman's only son. He was like a prince. John, who'd lived his entire life as a lamia, like his mother, didn't know much about witches or magic. He had some magic, now that he'd stopped drinking blood, stopped being a vampire, but he could only do basic things. Dave had tried to be reassuring, told him all he had to do was lend some willpower, not weave any complicated spells himself.  
  
Blaise studied him closely. "Your eyes," she said. "You have Redfern eyes. Your mother is - Amethyst Redfern, yes?"  
  
John nodded warily.  
  
"Shouldn't you be with her on a night like this, little bloodsucker?" Blaise asked.  
  
Thea kicked her in the ankle. "Blaise!" She cast John an apologetic look.  
  
John could play politics with the best of them. He didn't like it, but then he didn't like being here either. This wasn't his place. Blaise was right. But Father had ordered him here, and here he was.  
  
"Blaise must not have heard, with all the shuffling around she's been doing," John said. He kept his tone deliberately casual. "What was it this time? Lover boy commit arson? Kill a cat? Boil a bunny?"  
  
"Not have heard what?" Blaise asked.  
  
"My mother's dead."  
  
Blaise fell silent.   
  
"Hunters killed her."  
  
Blaise and Thea's mothers had both been done in by hunters.  
  
"So the bloodsucker in the family is gone and now I'm a witch," John said. He inclined his head, bowed formally at the waist. "If you'll excuse me, I have some magic to do."  
  
It was his first Samhain since Mother had died. It was the one night of the year he was allowed to be who he was. Mother would let him dress up in a cape with a high collar, let him grease down his hair with a part and a widow's peak, let him bare his fangs and collect candy and be proud to be a vampire, however stereotypical the depiction. While Dave and Father were at Circles, John was supposed to be out with Mother.  
  
Never again.  
  
So he found a fire, far away from Blaise and Thea. He stood beside a boy dressed as Anansi and a girl dressed as Amaterasu, and he kept his hands by his sides, curled his hands into fists, and offered up his willpower. Tears blurred in his eyes as the magic buzzed in the air, building higher and higher.  
  
He missed Mother. He missed her fiercely. He'd been too weak to save her. He hadn't been vampire enough, and now they'd made him a witch, and he was too weak to save anyone.  
  
He clenched his hands harder and harder, and he realized he'd drawn blood. He glanced down, watched the blood drip from his knuckles, and felt viciously glad. He was dressed as a witch tonight, but he'd still shed blood, even if it was all his own.  
  
For one instant, the flames in the middle of the circle blazed blue.


End file.
